Two Dimensional Thinking

It Is The Day Of My Patron Saint, Tomorrow

April 1st, 2009.

On long sales trips I live in a 1/2 ton truck full of tools, catalogues, PPE and all the other junk and accouterments an industrial salesman has to tote around. The passenger side floor of my truck is my garbage can - old coffee cups, Rotten Ronald burg cartons... and probably $60.00 worth of empty cigar cartons. I had started coughing like my Dad did - a phlegmy, ugly hack that just didn't sound right coming from men like us.

Pop's smoking solved itself. His own words: "I got old, senile and stupid and started forgetting things. One day I got so old and stupid, I had a Senior's Moment and forgot that I smoked! Quitting is easy when you're old and stupid, HAW HAW HAW!" Jeez - I had his annoying cough, thank goodness I never developed his annoying laugh! HAR HAR HAR!

In any event, I was shovelling out my truck on April 1st, 2009, looking at all those cigar cartons and hating myself. Addiction is weakness. The money wasted bothered me too - but it was the addiction that REALLY pissed me off. It is a truism: tobacco is a gov't tax on the weak and the stupid. I quit cold turkey. The gum and the pouches and the vaping gizmoes are also taxes on the stupid, far as I'm concerned.

Today I am going to wash the company truck and shovel it out again. It's full of coffee cups, burg wrappers, and smells like a dead fart .... gawd, my gut hangs four feet over my belt! I booted the tobacco habit...I need to do something about the way I eat. I need to exercise, hell - I have been letting too many important things slide. It's too much...I am going to pick ONE of my flaws tomorrow, and DO something about it. For some reason, for me - new resolutions just seem to work better on a day dedicated to foolishness rather than a day dedicated to reflection and celebration of a new year.

Whatever works, I suppose.

Pull My Other Finger

It has bells on it.

In other news, Trump = Hitler. Because racism.

Argen Skooglin Farfenhoogen

Wirecutter is bragging and gloating about all the wood he chopped. Not bad for an old fart - not bad at all. I've never had to split hickory but I still remember my one and only encounter with elm. Elm burns long and hot - as opposed to poplar wood which is most common where I live. I was spoiled on it because poplar and birch split easy. Problem with them is they burn hot and fast.

One day my father in law confiscated a fallen elm from a neighbour that he was going to split. He even took the stump - roots and all. He had a nice, innocent looking log for me that was around a foot long and asked me to take a swing at it. Fine, says I, thinking I'll show off for my wife.

The axe bounced off it.

I swung again, and that log just sat there like nothing had happened! I looked at Doug's axe - and of course the thing was dull and rusted and pitted because the idiot never looked after his tools - so I went to my truck and hauled out my pride and joy - a heavy woodsman's axe with the plumb style head. This was no Hudson Bay phony axe meant for weekend campers - this was a working axe. I thieved it from Pop and was eventually forced at gun point to return it - but I digress. It was sharp as could be and when I took it to that elm - it sank into the log about an eighth of an inch. I was dumbfounded.

Road rage set in and it didn't matter how mad I got, that fuggin log just took my best shots without even a crack! Everyone was laughing at me when my Donald Duck temper tantrum subsided. That is when I learned about wedges and sledges. To split this shit - you placed a 5 or 6 pound wedge and slowly pounded it slowly through the log. I eventually split that log, but phew!!! What a grunt!!!

My father in law is famous for his stubbornness. I've seriously considered murdering him because of it but he's so damn stupid and stubborn he would just keep living just to spite me, HAR HAR HAR! Welp - he split that entire tree and ended up with a stack of wood as big as Wirecutter's. He destroyed three wedges made from tool grade high carbon steel. When you beat on a wedge, the top mushrooms out and eventually the metal starts to split away and curl over - and you take it to the bench grinder and remove it. Eventually the tool will have to be thrown away. That was back when you could buy tools made from American steel - not that cheap, soft Chinese shit they're selling today. It was a feat, really, he started with that project and stuck right with it until it was done. He even split the stump - he had to use about 3 or 4 wedges on it at once - but eventually that was split and stacked too.

To this day I dunno if stubbornness is a virtue or a sin. Can it be both?

In any event our Scandihoovian friends learn EVERYBODY a valuable lesson in manly chores and how to do 'em!. Whellbarrow fires? Who woulda thunk it???  Explosive tree removal???

Valhalla exists, men! Lay down your axes, your hammers and wedges and mauls - and join me and our Viking friends to split wood LIKE A BOSS!

When Lines Must Be Drawn

I would suggest that you could increase your chances of scoring with a vegan chick

by turning your guns into the RCMP to be scrapped,

castrating yourself, and disposing of any remaining  self respect you might have.

I can see how this is a problem for even smart people though. Chicken Mom in Coopville loves her poultry overlords and they love her right back. Those critters have personalities and moods and they live happily ever after out there.

Pigs are the worst. They may be delicious and tasty - but I don't care how much you love bacon, if you raise those things and make the mistake of loving them or getting fond of them, you are in big trouble when it is butcher day on the farm! They're smarter than dogs, happy and extroverted animals that will steal your heart if you're not careful.

Or maybe horses are the worst. They take a piece of you when they go. I think that humans have a capacity to bond with them that is hardwired into our genetics. Masters and servants are a superficial construct with serious horses and riders - serious equestrians and their horses become integrated teams with a cohesion that your average NHL team can only dream about.

My stance is that the human animal was designed as a walking trash can that could eat anything - as a survival trait. I am not about to take up tofu. But the Usual Suspects are warned! If you start telling rude bacon jokes, I will tell YOU what goes into that hot dog you're eating. HAR HAR HAR!

Have a good Thursday! Only two more days until the weekend!  :)

Filthie Aerospace

All it needs is guns and a beverage holder...

Canadian Hate Crime - It Wasn't Me

It wasn't me. I LOVE fat, stupid and smelly women! I respect and admire bitchy, flat chested homely feminists with bad haircuts!!!! Please don't punish me!!!! You can't prove anything!!!


Apparently our Canadian bad assery is going international.

Feminists are so cute when they're mad, HAR HAR HAR!

(Except for the fat ugly chubsters).

The kippered police forces in Britain are on high alert! According to the boys at The Return Of Kings - we had drawn the ire and scrutiny of the tofts at Scotland Yard - while a fig farming goat feltching moslem vibrant and ethnically diverse youth - was mowing people down and mass murdering kippers and limeys with gay abandon in London. Is it just me? Or is that crap over at the CBC reminiscent of the kind a chit ya saw back in elementary school? If this is true, the Nanny State is in no position to challenge militant radical islam. You morons in law enforcement might want to take a second look at guys like me. All I want to do is tell dirty jokes, go play at the rifle range and otherwise be left alone. I would remind our crime fighters that your moslem assailant killed a cop too. I would argue that mass murderers should be a higher priority for you than dyspeptic crabby old stubfarts and internet trolls.

Welp...yeah. You probly did, you cunned stunt!

I love old world Mounties. I used to shoot archery and guns with a gang of them - they're all retired now. One thing that made me laugh was their candid and brutally truthful description of domestic violence. I quote from memory, but almost verbatim: "Domestic violence and spousal abuse is almost always a case of two idiots fighting, and the smaller idiot losing." As I get older I think that pretty much goes for all altercations with women. Sure, violence against women is a sin and should be punished...but I'm sorry gals. Telling a filthy joke is not sexual assault. Nor is a guy asking you out on a date. Nor are a couple of snarking internet trolls on your Twatter page.  Us evil old white men used to think about women and children in the same terms and stuff like this crap on the CBC is the reason why.

If I have the wrong opinion, and any ladies of intellect and worth want to explain why - I am all ears.

Explaining Farm Life To City People

When I was a kid we caught mice in those standard Victor mouse traps. They were fun to play with too: GI Joe would spill all his classified mission directives when tortured with them and Johnny West turned into a stooly pigeon too! All the Action Figures did! (And of course it was all fun n' games until you got your own finger snapped in the damn things).

Back in the good ol' days an action figure worth his salt

could take torture sessions with these all day long.

I suspect the cheap toys today would be gone with one snap.

Time moved on and I grew up (or at least my body did) but I still found myself fascinated by these things. When we moved to the farm Pop went high tech when he bought one that would snap up to 8 mice in a night. It was a flat cylindrical affair where the rodent put his head in to get at the bait and then got snapped. When we got up to do our chores in the morning we would both pause to cackle like morons at the poor vermin we killed with these idiotic things, HAR HAR HAR!

Mom never really adapted to the farm and one day got so disgusted with our antics, that she threw all the conventional mouse traps away and bought these more humane 'live capture' rigs designed not to kill the little bastards - just trap them so that bed wetting pissers and moaners wouldn't have to shed any tears over dead mice in the barn. Pop and I were disgusted, but we set the damned things out anyways because after all - the goal was to get the mice out of the shop and the barn - and not to entertain ourselves by killing them as inhumanely as possible.

The next morning I checked the trap and Pop and I laughed like morons again! The trapped mice were killing each other and eating each other alive! HAR HAR HAR! HAR HAR HAR! Mom nearly passed out when we showed her.

Gotta give credit where credit is due: if mice had to die, and a progressive 'sunshine, lollipops' solution wasn't possible... a viable, but warm and fuzzy traditional solution was!

Corky was about the same colour as this bandit, but she had long hair and was as dumb as a post. She was my first cat (Pop hates cats) and I just loved her. One day we saw her in action: she had cornered a mouse on the patio and was slowly torturing it to death. When she finally killed it, she looked around, then picked it up and carried it over to the door into the house and left it there for Mom to find. Pop and I, of course, had to cackle and the HAR-HAR-HARring brought Mom out - and she lost her mud when she saw the present the cat left. A couple months later I adopted another stray female cat that Pop named Sammy - she was black as sin and she started leaving Mom "presents" too.

Mom was still a bit of a nice lady back then. We finished her off for good when one day the cats cornered a gopher in the flower garden. They could contain it but they were leery of the rodent's size and teeth - so me and the dog moved in to help - and the gopher bolted. Somehow the critter got past the cats - and the chase was on! We set up a cordon - and funnelled the critter right back toward Charlie the Dawg - and it ran right into her mouth and she put an end to him with one big CRUNCH.

"HAR HAR HAR!" Pop chortled. "Good work everyone! That was some mighty fine team work!" Then Mom came round the corner of the house and noticed her son, her dog and two cats had trampled half her flower garden. "My garden...." she said in a small, sad voice. The last straw was when Charlie dropped the dead gopher at her feet as a consolation. Something just seemed to snap in Mom that day - she's been a horrible, ghastly old bitch ever since, and Pop and I stoically weather her bitchery in brave and forlorn silence. I know my soul is as pure as the driven snow - but I can't help but feel somehow partially responsible for what happened that day. (What is that horrible stink coming over my blog?)

In any event, the matters of mice and men have resurfaced - this time on youtube. The game's changed since the days when Pop and I played it - but the sentiments and the character of the players has not.

Happy Hump Day everyone.

Free Speechin' In Alberta

John C Wright is a favourite of mine. He has a knack of cutting through the BS and is capable of superlative good writing on occasion. My family situation has made me all to familiar with people that have been educated beyond their intellects and turned their minds to mush in the process. They can no longer see the relationship between actions and consequences - when something bad happens to them it's always somebody else's fault, and it's almost always an act of hate or discrimination or bigotry. That leftist circle-jerk has been going on for a long time and probably will continue for some time to come. The horrible politically incorrect truth is that until responsible, capable white men put marginal, degenerate and stupid people in check - this will continue. For me - the jig is up. Hell, it has been for over two decades now.

Bill M-103 is the latest tempest in the teapot up here in Canada. Free speech is offensive to moslems and they are doing their damnedest to get their liberal useful fools to undermine it. Predictably, comedy and ass-hattery ensue.

LOL. Good luck with that, junior.

I love Americans. I love their Constitution and their devotion to it. When Obama was stinking up the Oval Office with his presence and wiping his arse on the Constitution, there was no shortage of Americans willing to publicly tell that niggered idiot where to go and how to get there. When gay mulatto started arming up the alphabet soup of law enforcement agencies, Americans gunned up too, and made no secret as to why.

We handle things differently up here in Canada. Or at least, out here in Alberta. We've had an unfortunate string of liberal morons that think they can control thoughts and speech merely by making laws. Half of them come out of the judiciary. But by and large, these idiots can only make speeches and pose for photo ops as they sign meaningless scraps of paper. We The People of Canada may mutter and curse - but we generally ignore them and just keep on truckin' as we always have. The libs know they can't enforce their bullshit and their liable to get shot if they get stupid about it. They have their puppet show, we pretend to be impressed or we blatantly ignore it... and life goes on.

Out in the real world, or, at least - here in Alberta - most of us think that islam is a stupid religion practiced by violent people with ugly women and ignorant men. We see the yodelling curs screaming for the death of all joos, queers, homos etc - and we know the score and will say so amongst ourselves. And if Turdo La Doo doesn't like it - welp... we aren't all that impressed with that little faggot either. I am just laughing - that multicultural pot is coming to a roiling boil and now these idiot leftists are desperately trying to keep a lid on it! For me - as always, I'm stocking up on ammo and popcorn for when the Age Of Unreality finally ends.

In the meantime, courtesy of The Grouchy Old Cripple - we have more moslem comedy for those of you that just can't get enough of our peaceful and vibrant moslem friends!

Mayhem and hilarity breaks out in Dirkadirkastan

as a moslem is run down by a crazed ex-girlfriend

So - that's the way it works in Canada, for what it's worth. If some liberal piece of shit like Justin Trudeau can talk trash about Christian conservatives, he can't bitch if we talk the same way about his helper monkeys.

How To Park Your Butt

This is how ya do it right.


I envy Gorges and The Mighty Ankle Biter because they have achieved a moment of clarity. It's hard to do for some folks. My mind is like a chattering woman - it never shuts up! It takes an active effort of sheer will for me to silence it!

Sometimes I can silence it and it comes natural but only when I have gone to extreme lengths. A campfire at night after a day's fishin' will do it. Sometimes at work I will just shut down - hit the turn signal and rather than driving on, I'll stop and turn into an old church yard, or cemetery or even a roadside turnout in a picturesque area - and chill. I hate it, but I will shut that cell phone and kill the truck - just to revel in the silence and peace of it sometimes.

I've been talking to the dogs for awhile now - suppose I always have. In my defence Macey is as smart as a whip with a vocabulary of at least a couple hundred words. Talking to Mort is like talking to a wall.

The dawg has it right.

I can forgive that young man in the pic, he's probly got a family, bills to pay, asshole relatives, troublesome kids and the whole nine yards. But at my age most of my big problems are solved. My bills are all paid. I am not rich but I'm free. Kid's gone, asshole relatives were banished, and life is pretty good now. But still my mind yammers on about this and that - and it's all out of sheer habit. I obsess and fret about little shit rather than big shit now. What foolishness!

I just polished off a breakfast of eggs and toast - and now I am going on a high priority Dawg Mission - I will load them up and drag them out someplace new where they can rampage off leash without some neurotic bed wetter getting pissy about it.

And - I am going to shut down. I will restart later. Have a good Sunday.

No, I Don't Have Squishy-Pants...

...although you would be correct to suspect it! I've been shooting black powder guns all morning. When I got home I threw the brass into soap and water in an expendable Tupperware and now the whole house smells like the sewer backed up! The old lady will have my head when she gets home, HAR HAR HAR!

It'll be worth it. I am almost finished shaking hands with The Retirement Rifle - a Italian made reproduction of the Remington Rolling Block. I put my first serious cast lead boolits through it today too!

Courtesy of CW over at the Daily Timewaster, we can see what properly cast

lead bullets should look like.

Mine came out a little wrinkly... I cast outside and up here in Canada she's still a might chilly during the day and I can't get my lead hot enough to pour like that in these cold temps. I managed to get 12, pan lube them and shoot them.

That's my home brewed ammunition - 500 grain Postell boolits dropped from a cheap

Lee die at .459" diameter.

They're sitting on 63 grains of FFg Black Powder.

Honest to God Black Powder! Accept no alternates!

Preliminary groups came in at around 3" at 150m. That's about as good as I am gonna do at this point, but I have the sights zeroed and things can only get better.

The Hemmorhoid Rifle (1876 Uberti lever gun repro in .45-75 is another story. I am shooting 350 grain flat points in that and groups are running a foot and a half at 150m. I have some homework to do there. But - I have everything firing period correct ammo and the single shot is shooting semi-seriously! Can't beat that!

When I got home the first thing I did was take the guns downstairs and mop them - more stench! HAR HAR HAR! Most folks are amazed to learn that cleaning black powder guns is faster n' cleaner than smokeless. It just stinks a helluva lot more! She was a good day!

Then the stink in the house got the best of me so I went over to Flapz' to help out with a new trailer he's building and rob his beer fridge. His new gal promptly accused me of shitting myself and wouldn't believe me when I told her about the black powder. (Smart kid, I wouldn't believe me either!) Flapz is currently in my debt and I make maximum use of it to take advantage of him and his good nature. Lookit what I found hiding in his dump of a garage:

I'm gonna swap him my super fast Hawker Sea Fury for it. This has a DLE 20 gasser engine and is the plane of my dreams.

In any event, the sun shines, I have dawgs to walk and more bullets to cast and beer to drink.

Try and stay upwind of my place if ya can.

Computer Post Mortem

Well my 'puter is back and I thought it had gotten virused from all the goat porn that I my buddies at work watch on it. The little pakie kid at Staples said it was something wrong with Windows 10 but he couldn't say what. So they wiped it and reinstalled everything and I am off to the races again.

And, I am going up the wall with the grumpy old man blues because MSN news is the default home page on it again. I HATE MSN with the heat of 1000 suns! Well over 50% of the articles are about staggeringly stupid people doing staggeringly stupid things. Wirecutter over at Knuckledraggin does the exact same thing but at least he's smart enough to put a good rude joke in the stuff he posts.

Forgot what the MSN title for this chick getting run over by

the cop car was.

WC would have made some sport over it

involving 'Okies' no doubt.

(I am assuming he is referring to people from

Oklahoma with that - I wouldn't know because I am

Canadian and we hate fwench people from Queerbec up here).

Ya never see the damned frogs getting run over

by cop cars.

Pity, that...

As a thought experiment I searched through the intellectual sewage of that homepage looking for something that might appeal to an intellect with an IQ above freezing. I actually found an article where they discovered a super-massive black hole in a galaxy 8 billion light years away and that it moves at 4 million MPH. Of course they couldn't explain the mechanics of that but how many mouth breathers would have the attention span to assimilate something like that anyways?

Then I found this gem -  a heart warming story about a man giving birth to his own daughter. (Click on the link at your own risk). Here comes another fugged up kid into the world, sacrificed on the altar of political correctness. I wonder if that chubster in the vid that got run over by the cop car was raised by degenerates? The nation waits with baited breath to see how this great social experiment turns out!

As for me - seeing as how I have all the wrong opinions and can't tell a couple dykes from a couple trannies - the world has no use for me, nor me for it! Was gonna do coffee with Mary and Pete but they couldn't get out of bed (HAR HAR HAR - Look who's getting old now!). I have better things to do so I'll be out at the range wringing out both The Retirement Rifle and The Hemorrhoid Rifle. I have a few experiments of my own to conduct.

Go outside and play! It's spring, dontchya know!

Filthie's Friday Speakeasy

I was emptying the spittoons getting ready for the Friday Night Happy Hour and wasn't paying attention. Happens every time.

Uncle Bob came in through the front with a newspaper folded over in front of him. Everyone knows Bob can't read! Quartermain came in through the back with a violin case, wearing a fedora and sunglasses. Oh yeah, that woulda set the alarms off... and if that didn't, the sight of WC and BW in spats, cuff links and pin striped suits would have!

The girls were pros at least. Bob set it off: the newspaper fell away and he started banging away with at .38! When the boys pulled their heaters and started shooting up my bar - the gals just kept singing like champs as if nothing unusual was going on! Somebody hit the spittoon I was carrying and it emptied its contents all over my new suit! Bottles of gin, vodka and scotch exploded as Quartermain cut loose with that Thompson chopper of his - the one with the drum magazine. I dived behind the bar and pulled Old Slabsides and was gonna return fire when Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump came in and let those bastids have it with the MP5's and Stetchkins.  The buggers all escaped... but we're all breathing and the girls sound great.

Enjoy your Friday night everyone, and remember to drink and shoot responsibly!  :)

RV Trailer Tutorial

This trailer RV nonsense has me perplexed so I figgered I would turn to my elders for instruction and enlightenMINT.  The boys are always helpful; and chimed in to share their trailering tips.

BW is off for some fishin' fun... that's one way to do it I suppose....

Uncle Bob falls in behind BW...

...and Gorges Grouse is bringing up the rear...

Wherever these guys are going fishin and caming... I think I'll be at the next lake over...HAR HAR HAR!

Anniversary

yesterday I pooped the bed and woke up at 4:00 am. I figured I was up for the day and went out on an extra early Dawg Patrol. The coyotes are right in town now and the started yodelling as we passed through the park. Mort hates them with a passion and went to DEFCON 1 while Macey assumed Attack Posture. Last year we were just coming out of that park and I glanced behind me to see one following us about 20 yards back. I'm a farm kid and I have no love of those mangy bastards myself. Mort is a Great Pyranese and they are legendary coyote killers around these parts. Local lore has it that the 'yotes send one of the pack out to torment and lure the dog away to an ambush where the rest of the pack will fall upon it and tear it apart. Broken hearted owners have literally found their Pyranese dead - surrounded by the corpses of coyotes. I believe they may be better sheepdogs than actual sheepdogs. Mort is probably the dumbest dog I've ever had, but he takes his role as a guardian very seriously.  I knew nothing about the breed when I came across him at the shelter - he just seemed like a big dumb goofy dog... And that is what he is unless he feels threatened. That only goes for animals though - I've never seen him get aggressive with humans.

When we got home it was 5:00 and the wife was up. She told me it was our 32nd anniversary and that we should go out for breakfast the way we did the day after we were married. Where did all that time go?

The restaurant we had our first breakfast as a couple together - is long gone. It got knocked down and a strip mall built up. I still remember it - I had steak and eggs and I think it cost less than 8 bucks. We had breakfast at Denny's yesterday and that part of town wasn't even there in 1985.

We've had some real ups n' downs in life - hell, everyone has these days I suppose. A lot has changed. But sitting here - after that 32 year shitshow with the family, the economy and all the rest of it ... I realize now that I love my wife even more now than I did then. Breakfast was awesome - chattered like we did when we were kids.

I wondered what I would do if I had a time machine - imagine going back to 1985 and changing your life story: imagine she married somebody else, and the family and anger and bullshit never happened...where would I be instead? For me it doesn't bear thinking about.

One of my favourite bloggers is in the exact opposite boats going the other way; he's finalizing a divorce and comments on a curious sense of indifference about it all. None of my beeswax, of course, but I wonder if that isn't numbness? More likely it's a strength of character I sorely lack. The crazed women in my family hit me squarely amidships and I was really depressed about it for awhile. It was so bad I didn't even realize my wife was figuratively under my arm and helping me keep my feet under me. Dunno how I woulda fared without her. My blogger thinks nothing of it; for him, he's moving forward and that's that for that!

He sets a good example.

My wife and are in the same boat. These waters have gotten old, there's nothing to see here anymore, and it's time to hoist the anchor and hit the throttles! 😉👍

Tomorrow it's coffee with King Peter where I will harass him about his sub-calibre 338 Lapua Magnum, and torment his poor wife with my lack of wit. After that I'm gonna run the new generator a bit and start familiarizing myself with the new trailer. Hopefully I'll be able to hit the range too.

Hope y'all have a great weekend lined up yerselves! Now - if you'll excuse me - all engines! Full speed ahead!

So Much For Security

it just occurred to me... yesterday when I bought that generator it cost me $1400.00 and change out the door.

I've got a $1000.00 limit on my visa in case of theft or loss - if the bad guys get my card or somehow do the identity theft thing - I can take a $1000.00 hit and shrug it off. A $12k hit wouldn't kill me but it would certainly hurt! I have a gun habit to support, HAR HAR HAR!

But yesterday they rung that generator through without blinking an eye! If my anti-theft credit limit was working - shouldn't the transaction have been declined?

Camp/Bushcraft

Another $1400.00 down the crapper.

Typical Honda, started on the 5th pull (because it's brand new and on fumes)

and purred like a kitten.

If ya gotta trailer and ya gotta boondock it - ya have to have electrical power, right? Right?

BAH! Humbug!

Still and all it will get me outta the house and give me somewhere to be, HAR HAR HAR! Left to my own devices I would be just another senior delinquent, eventually picked up off the streets for vagrancy, and tossed in the can with other washed up old derelicts and relics like BW and Uncle Bob.  :)

It's a 2000 watter and I think it'll run a light bulb or maybe a furnace fan - hell, I dunno what these things can and can't do - the kid at the Honda shop said it should work. If it runs the furnace this weekend I will call it good.

Yannow I went down to my old sporting goods shop and they'll still sell me a rod or a gun - but do ya think they could sell me a good ol' fashioned Coleman lantern that runs on naptha? HAR! Fat chance!  Back when we were kings, we had one of those things putting out the light of a solar super nova all night long - and its hissing was like an old friend. My father in law presided over deer camp from the tailgate where he tended his pride and joy: a THREE burner Coleman camp stove. He did the cooking, cleaned the dishes and tended to his drink and that was his idea of heaven. He always brought a rifle but that was just for show. Without the wife to snark at him he burned 1" steaks, slathered 'em with mushrooms and onions and washed it down with scotch! I would pass out cigars afterward.

Those were good days.

I'm tryng to be happy about it. But in better days, when I was faster on my feet and my blood ran a little hotter, bushcraft for me meant the same thing it did to these beardos:

I didn't dress up in the buckskins or hunt with a flint lock...

but if I had it all to do over again I probably would!

There's a black powder geek-out at our club during the May long weekend every year. I just may take the RV down, park beside the other old geezers, and harass the kids and listen to the tall tales with a drink in hand, and then go back to my trailer and sleep on a heated mattress.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. ;)

Popping Pills With Jim And Kim

I like Jim but he's not for everyone. He seems to think that women aren't worth a hill of beans without a man to tell them what to do and where to do it - and make 'em do it if they get stupid about it! I've seen him proven right, and I've seen him proven wrong by the women in my own family.

Kim du Toit tries to take a more balanced approach but he's confined his scope to celebs when he talks about female train wrecks. I don't think that's fair - those girls that go into the Hollywood fast lane have it damned tough: with celebrity, every huckster, shyster, and slob paparazzo will be out to get a piece of them by any means possible. With friends like that it's inevitable that they won't go careening off into the guard rails eventually.

I've always tried to be polite and sympathetic to men dealing with train-wreck women. I used to believe that such women were the product of poor genetics and poor parenting - and in my conceit I hung myself on my own petard: my own daughter is a militant lesbian social justice warrior and a 'gay artiste'. It would be both accurate and vulgar to say she's a fuck-up. Perhaps 'train wreck' is a better term. I used to think that one day she would grow up and redeem herself but ... Jeez, those red pills go down hard.

Ever see this one?

I used to think this was the dumbest

motivational poster there was.

I dunno what makes a train-wreck woman. I've seen several and like Kim - I won't have them in my presence. When my daughter was a kid growing up I was convinced she needed a trip to the woodshed far more than a trip to the head shrink but maybe I got that one wrong. But one thing I have noticed is that they are all their own worst enemies.

I hear the jargon those guys are throwing out like 'red/blue pills' and 'NAWALT' and MGTOW and I just shake my head. When did life get so complicated? That poster above now makes sense to me. At least the upper left, anyways.

I wonder if those pills the boys are taking aren't suppositories? Ya think?

Think I'll stick to whisky.

We Are Experiencing Technical Difficulties - Please Stay Tuned

My computer got virused. Again. Somebody around here has a penchant for goat-porn or something.

Soooo, my computer is in with the monkeys at Staples and they are going to give the machine a lobotomy.

I will be back as soon as possible but for now, I will be crapping sporadically in the comments on YOUR blogs. You can't do nothin to me over the internet now, HAR HAR HAR!

See ya soon

Gun Porn

That's what Marie Antoinette said when peasants and peons like me started whining for free food.

Yannow how some blogs have this gizmo so that you can donate money to 'em? I need one. Sheesh - I can't even afford to copy the pic and paste it on my blog! It's a shame because we could REALLY use some good dueling pistols round here. Unca Bob is mouthing off about my good buddy, George Dubya Bush and he's to big for me to beat up with my fists. Ever notice how everyone is completely on board with free speech but they lose their shit when the other guy does it? The restoration of the dueling tradition would make things real easy: sure, Bub, you can do your free speechin' all ya want - but if you mouth off at the wrong person at the wrong time you can either back up your gob honourably - or STFU, mind your manners and keep breathing and live to see another day.

Heck, that would have positive secondary effects too: shrewish women with sharp tongues and dull minds would also be stifled by angry husbands who won't want to answer for their ropey mouths, HAR HAR HAR!!! Mind you I'd probly be dead now too - with a .54 round lead ball put through my pan by some angry peasant like BW or Victor Quartermain.

Lend me some money, Unca Bob! I'll take back ALL the rotten things I've said about you! David Price was selling kits for similar swivel-breech rifles that are to die for. To the layperson it looks like he sells you all the parts and all ya gotta do is slap 'em together. Au contraire:

Disaster strikes Mike as he struggles to inlet a fine piece of curly maple...

He's been fussing with this thing all winter down in his shop.

I'm told the basic kit is around $2500.00 USD. Even the in-embellished guns are works of art and Mike will no doubt prevail and will hopefully have a range report for us soon.

As for David Price - he's quite simply the benchmark for the gun maker's art. Here are his superb 'Father & Son' rifles.

Those leaves, vines and cabbage are all wire/silver inlays. I can

sort of do it... but my work looks like it was done

by a hare-lipped retard or a gov't worker. Dave's work is

spectacularly flawless.

There's a Valhalla down in the US somewhere called 'Toad Hall' where the boys literally build flintlocks from a bar of metal and a tree branch. The 'apprentice' gun makers are old toads in their 60's and they work under the tutelage of men in their 70's. You would think a guy could make a mint selling guns like this - and a very few can - but for most of us the time investment simply isn't worth it. It's a labour of love - which is why I will probably never own one! HAR HAR HAR!

Hope yer week is off to a good start.

Deriving Value From Today's Useless Mainstream Media

I'm in the same boat as Unca Bob. I gave up on the media back in the 90's. Most people did - the only folks taking the media seriously these days are idiots and elderly Boomers living in sheltered retirement bubbles that have no idea how the world works now. When I DO read the mainstream media - I read it through the lens of their agenda. When you do that the media CAN'T lie - their lies merely tell the truth of what they're lying about.

Take Canada's failing liberal shit rag - The Globe & Mail. These staggeringly stupid fuckwits have lost pretty much all credibility with the vast majority of the nation - even the liberals aren't buying their dreck anymore. It's written by the boringly predictable homosexuals, feminists, socialists and other dregs that infest and run Canada's big cities out east. Margaret Wente is their token conservative - and they're too fuggin' stupid to realize that she's not all that conservative at all. Let's look at her latest 'conservative' flub-dubbery: Why Trolls Love To Pick On Women.

Take a minute to read that. Look - I know it's the usual femcnut crap - just read it, okay? I'll wait.

Finished? Sorry to put ya through that. But there's a reason to: there is a whole heaping shovelful of value in that liberal excrement - ya just gotta be able to compost it first! HAR HAR HAR!

First, with the application of critical thought - you can derive some worthy questions that will produce insights you ordinarily would have missed.

• Do women actually get trolled more so than men? When I am slumming the blogs I will take Bob, BW and all the boys into the boards and let 'em have it with the high sticks! I try to be respectful of the ladies and curb my potty mouth on their blogs. I would say that it's more a case of idiots getting trolled than women. Better cut that train of thought off here and let you continue with it on your own.
• "Media outfits employ small armies of watchdogs to keep this smelly effluent from polluting their online comments sections. Others have just given up and dropped online comments entirely. If comments were allowed to go their own way, they’d mostly consist of insults and potty talk." Are there any adults in the WORLD who haven't heard or used 'potty talk'? Why should an adult need this suppressed?  Nobody can force you to read what's on your computer screen. So Mags - seriously, what's the justification for censorship? And why do you censor comments that don't contain any of it whatsoever?
• What separates trolling from on-line disagreement? Why is it that women often can't tell the difference?
• If the trolls are nothing more than schoolyard bullies and childish pranksters, why do women get so upset about them?
• Maggie describes the troll in minute detail: psychopathy, narcissism, impulsiveness and sadism. (It used to be us icky men had a 'Dark Triad' of personality flaws, now it's a Dark Tetrad, HAR HAR HAR!!!!). What traits would your average militant lesbian feminist have? This is my favourite - 'women tend to keep their opinions private...' she said in a public newspaper.

So, what's the take away? Good grief - most women are too damned stupid to understand the concept of 'sticks and stones' - even when those utterly harmless words are thrown out by morons. The other point they didn't want to get across was that these stupid women are losing control of their narrative - they didn't allow comments because some ignernt redneck might come along and crap in the comments and spark derisive laughter and jeers.

Not mentioning any names, of course, HAR HAR HAR! But - I have to give the Glob N' Pail credit - they finally got me to click on one of their articles and actually read it. It happens every couple of months.

Are ya still a troll if ya do it on your own blog? Probly not, you're more likely a racist/homophobe/fascist with a little dink - and therefore a viable target for she-twinks, landwhales, and vibrants. The media NEVER lies!

Have a good Sunday.

Happy Trails

Well we picked up our new little camper yesterday and I am just stoked.

I've always had a jaded view of the RV thing. When I was a kid some old retired fart and his lovely wife took pity on me because I wasn't old enough to go fishing with the big kids and there wasn't room in the boat for me anyways. (Stuff like that breaks kids' hearts). I didn't know the old guy from a hole in the ground but he took me out in his little aluminum boat wi th a 2 HP trolling motor. They towed it behind a plain looking VW camper van.

In any event we pulled up within a hundred yards of Pop and the big kids and we sunk some lines and I started pulling out small little rainbows. I learned to take the hooks out, and put them back in the water gently. When we got back the old boy showed all of us how to clean them and cook them. I was squeamish going in but afterward I could clean them as well as the big kids. He took me out twice more and then one day they were gone - off on their retirement path. I never saw them again, and I've never forgotten them. They had that little VW camper with a rainbow trout decal on one side and the white tail deer on the other. Those decals were a badge of office in those days that said "I'm retired and living the good life".

It's like everything else. The world moved on from those days and things got stupid. The tent trailers went the way of the buffalo or with the rednecks and kids. The cool kids drove big pusher motor homes with gas fire places, granite counters, opulent shitters, etc etc. My parents had a 36 foot 5th wheel that they were so proud of. It just turned me off - I think their tent trailer they had back in the 1960's would be a vast improvement. (It must be a guy thing).

But as I got older my bone's stopped fitting the ground right, erratic blood chemistry screwed up my internal thermostat and I couldn't stay warm anymore, blah blah blah. I got old. My days of tents and overnight hikes are pretty much over.

It's a Rockwod hard top/hard side A-Frame

Camper...

Oh boy. This thing has a stereo, lights, stove, BBQ, heated mattress, microwave, air conditioner, etc etc etc. Times have gotten stupid and I have too I guess.

The Winchester Hemorrhoid Rifle

Firehand is on my shit list. He's working my side of the street and infringing on my authority as a specialist on old rifles for old buggers. He's shooting a Mini Sharps that looks like more fun than a barrel of monkeys. I've seen these pistol caliber rifles going after gongs out at 200m and making some serious hits too.

Firehand's old school cool complete with a period authentic

Leatherwood 3X scope.

That's serious fun right there. He's having some

minor issues that he'll suss out shortly.

I got the hankering for an old school Black Powder Cartridge Rifle a couple years back and a Uberti repro of the Winchester 1876 Centennial Rifle came up on the Gunnutz site. The pics were gorgeous so I PM'd the owner and asked what kind of shape the gun was in, etc. It all sounded good so I bought it.

Crescent butt plate. Colour case hardened receiver. Octagonal barrel.

.45-75 caliber. Be still my beating heart...

I fluked out and scored about 150 brass cases for it. I'm probably the only guy in Canada with that much brass in this caliber - the stuff is almost impossible to find up here and ya gotta know guys to get it across the border. So I loaded up some rounds, and was just stoked when I got to the range.

The gun wouldn't cycle or fire correctly.

I took it down to Rotten Rod The Gunsmith - and he tells me the previous owner did a botched trigger job and that he could do a temporary fix - but I would need some new parts. Getting them from the wops in Italy might be possible. I just about did it last week but they shipped the wrong ones. The import/repair saga goes on. It shoots for now, so I'll smile and use it. All it needs is a new hammer, and Rod was able to make an old Soule sight work for the tang.

These are really bad pics that don't capture the beauty and soul of this gun.

The problem with these Italian guns is that a lot of the materials are case hardened. Case hardening means their is a hard, outer layer of metal that will stand up to wear and tear. The inner material is soft like butter and won't wear at all. This allows the maker to use cheaper cutting and milling tools in the manufacture of the gun, whereas top notch 'hard' metals require very expensive bits and cutters to machine.

And - because guns frighten liberals and stupid people importing gun-related parts and supplies in Canada is a fuggin' nightmare. In any event, as I head into retirement I do it with some fine vintage rifles that will challenge me and keep me off the streets and doing something constructive, I suppose. Old guns and old buggers go together like bacon n' eggs.

As always, my readers (you two know who you are) will be kept informed.

Friday Speakeasy: That's Right

I was busy gobbing in the beer glasses and polishing 'em up for the customers because it's gonna be a busy day today: it's Welfare Cheque Day and I was preparing for the 9am rush! So I'll be damned - Uncle Bob and Quartermain walk in and other than their beards, they're clean, and sober. I knew something was up. Quartermain looks at Bob, points at me - and the next thing I know, Bob is kicking and punching and slapping me out the damn door! "We're under new management," Quatermain calls as I fall sprawling into the urine-soaked back alley.

Welp - I'll be go to hell, as the Bohunk farmers say around here! I saunter around to the front, go back in and Quatermain and Bob are auditioning acts for the Friday Night Speakeasy. They're doing a good job of it too! The place looks classier already despite the two beardos!

So. Your Kid Is Queer. What Now?

I love titles like that. See 'em all the time on MSN and other 'lifestlyle' websites that mostly appeal to women. Chicken headed LIBERAL women. Stupid women. They're written by stupid women, FOR stupid women. Disagree with them? Shaddup, you homophobe! You're worse than Hitler, ya wanna fry all the queers, enslave women, blah blah blah - you know the drill, you unsavoury deplorable racist, you! HAR HAR HAR! Been there, done that, got the tee shirt.

In my case it was simple. My daughter was a leftwing SJW thumb-sucking snowflake. She was at the very leading edge of that social phenomenon and when she started wailing and sobbing about how she was abused and tortured and traumatized by my rejection of her gay agenda - and a lot of people took it seriously. Words like 'social justice warrior', 'cry bully', 'gamer gater' and 'virtue signalling' weren't even invented yet. This monster was something new! We rejected each other after that, and that was that for that! I reject anyone that opposes free speech, political/social/economic realities and critical thought. The in-laws finally got the punt from my family too and try as I might... I still look back sometimes but know that things are what they are, and ours is the new reality.

When your queer comes out of the closet, there's a lot of variables that come into play and my experiences might differ from yours by light years. Some queers ARE decent enough people outside their depravity and sin, and they are courteous and respectful of those that aren't on board with the gay agenda. It takes courage to face what you are in their boat - and you have to respect that. Most of them don't like the fact they're gay either. If they're like that you can try to get along. If I were to offer advice - when you first learn of their sexuality - stifle yourself. If you disagree with it, STFU and think about it for awhile. Don't react in haste even if you're provoked. Ask your kid to give you space while you get your head around it. It's only fair, you are going to have to challenge your own morals and ethics and beliefs and reconcile them with their depravity. That's what homosexuality ultimately is, despite the frantic efforts of stupid people to whitewash it. Good luck with that, is all I can say - and I mean that too. I was searching my soul for YEARS after our family broke.

Society has turned the victim into the new noble class. That has in turn spawned a sub-noble class of phonies like the copy-cats, the virtue signalers, the progressives and the cultural Marxists that are busy inventing new pronouns so that they can more thoroughly police the way we speak and think. If you stand up to them they are going to hit you with everything they have. People that were your friends will turn on you, and even some of your family might. There is no peaceful middle ground with these zealots and militants; they literally intend to be society's moral and intellectual superiors and they've just about accomplished it. The good new is that they can be fought. Cultural Marxism by nature appeals to stupid, marginal people and if you have to fight you can.

My experience was that the smarter family and friends will back up and try and stay out of such conflicts. The stupid ones will usually take sides and start throwing shots. The queer/SJW's will drive that as far as they can too. By nature they are deceitful and manipulative and unless you totally submit to them they WILL tear up a family. You have a decision to make with the militant queers - do you want them telling you what to say and think all the time? For them, tolerance isn't good enough - you will be expected to cheerlead for them and if you deviate from their narrative one iota - no amount of virtue signaling or apologizing will save you. It's a devil's choice: rip up your family, or get in the closet the queers had been living in.

Some family members will not have the option of 'staying out of it'. Some will have to choose sides, like your wife or husband. I agree that it's a horrible thing to have to do - forcing them to take sides... but if everyone is honest with themselves, about progressives and the LBGTXYZ clan - most parents will see the hurt and hell their sexually disturbed kids are headed for and they will be parents first and tolerant politically correct friends second.

If I had to distill it all, I would say this: when confronted by queers, THINK. Good ones will let you, the bad ones will insist on doing that for you. If they do, and you are one that prefers to think for yourself - there is no good to be had in submitting to people who won't respect you for your tolerance or reciprocate it. If that is the lie of the land - your family could be dead already. There's no easy answers, there is no manual, you are on your own. Let me know how you make out if you're so inclined.

And - Best of luck to you!

So Ya Found My Blog, Spud...

Hey Kid.

Well, thanks for stopping by, I guess. You've probably gone back and seen the bile and venom, I suppose. For me it's largely gone now, but it's still there. Even so, I think about you every day.

I'm not surprised you found it, it's no secret really. Your mom reads it and I'm sure she rolls her eyes at the sick jokes and potty humour the same as you do. When I found yours I was just gobsmacked. We are like oil and water and while our intellects aren't carbon copies - they rhyme at times. Sucks to be you, I guess, HAR HAR HAR! Help yourself to the archives if you're so inclined, because I read your stuff too. Oh yeah - I know who you're talking to, and I know what you're saying. Doesn't bother me any more, really. If I had one question I could get an answer to though, it would be this: you had the guts to come out of the closet. You had the guts to move to another province on a shoe string. You're filled with the progressive zealotry and assured of your own righteousness - yet you haven't the courage to face your father. Or your grandparents, for that matter. What's up with that? When our family tore itself apart they came down solidly on your side. I hope you mended fences there.

Just so you know I gave your grandparents the punt. I didn't appreciate the way they were getting in the middle of this, and I sure as hell didn't like the way you manipulated them. For what it's worth, you were only 50% of what was wrong with the family - those two assholes were the other 50%. When you were small, I watched those two idiots spoiling you and coddling you and getting in the middle of our affairs - and I swear, their intent was to destroy you. Whether they succeeded or not is a matter of perspective I suppose.

We stopped talking about two years ago and I dunno if ya heard, but your Uncle Matt and Aunt Nicole got divorced. I wonder if your idiot grandparents didn't have a hand in that one too? Who knows, you probably have more knowledge than I do about that. I know they did their level best to drive a wedge into my marriage and I won't forgive them for it.

Your Mom started going to church. It's hilarious - she gets dressed up in her Sunday best and still turns heads and she's in her 50's. Sometimes I go too. It wasn't what I expected and I'm glad I go. I've even thrown the odd prayer out for you - not that you go straight and fly right - just that you're happy. God doesn't listen to me much and usually deals with my ass through Darwin and Murphy, HAR HAR HAR! Sorry if ya got any on ya.

Your path is your own, kid. I can't go with you and I wouldn't if I could. That's on me, not you, I have my own road and there's no room on it for cultural Marxism and the inverted morality that goes along with it. I still love you, and if you need us, you know where we are.

Pop

Dog F*ckers VS Dog Lovers

Holy mackaral.

How fuggin stupid are these people?

I'm a farm kid. I'm actually fairly good with animals and better than most. I've trained horses, chickens and dogs and the metrics are always the same. Good behaviour is always praised, and sometimes rewarded. Bad behaviour is always punished. Your average dog (or horse or cat) will respond well to a bag of cookies in one hand, and a spanking with the other - all they have to decide which one they want.

When I got Macey she was in the SPCA to be put down. She was about 2 years old and had behavioural problems. But because I was The World's Best Animal Handler (I'm a farm kid!) - I knew all about dogs and there's no bad behaviours that ya can't beat out of 'em, right?

Welp. Yeah. No - Macey had some real issues. She was a good girl but anything smaller than she was - was considered prey. Small dogs, cats, rabbits - if she saw one she'd try to slip her leash and go after it. And make no mistake: she fully intended to kill it. On walks she was a terror. She almost ate a Yorkie and a couple ankle biters and when she did I would slap her hard enough for my hand to hurt. She just shrugged it off and went after the next victim. Soon I was beating her ass so hard I had to quit because either she or I was going to break something. I'm not lying either, that is how bad it was. "Cookies? Shove your cookies up your ass, Filthie!"  "You call that a beating, Filthie? I can take that all day!"

One day we were out running and she saw a rabbit and lost her shit. The leash got between my feet, I went over and picked up some road rash - and I lost MY shit. I beat her again. When I got home, I got one hand on her tail, the other on her collar and I threw her in the back of the truck! That bitch was going BACK to the SPCA or out to the gun club and she wasn't coming back!!!!



God bless my wife, she got the keys to the truck away from me, talked me down, and slowly my rage started to subside and I began to think. Clearly, I wasn't taking the right tack with this dog and needed other options. The idiots at the SPCA were no help. 'Have you tried this?' Yep. "How about that?" Yup. "And what about the other thing...?" Yup...

Couple days later we did coffee with King Peter and Mary and Pete just laughed. "Glen, ya got a GREAT dog there! Your 'problem' is that she's smart, and you - maybe not so much. Buy a spikey choke collar and you're good to go!" I told Pete that he was full a shit - and he is - but I went out and forked over 20 bucks for the collar and figured I was wasting my time.

The next day she spied a little dog and went off - and I yanked on that collar HARD. She yelped and instantly submitted! I was stunned! Are you kidding?!?!? All I need is this stupid collar to make my dog behave? Three days later she minded her P's and Q's when small dogs were about. She watched the rabbits with intensity - but minded her manners. 5 days later she started to heel - that's a tough one to teach high energy/high intelligence dogs. A couple months later she was off leash altogether.

My dogs need a five commands:

Heal
Sit
Stay
Lie down
Come

They HAVE to do those commands without any bullchit. If they are out in the road, or getting into a fight with another dog I need them to stop NOW. That's all any household pet needs, really. But lord, that girl was smart.

People started to notice and a couple offered me money to train their dogs. Hey, I only look stupid! But it felt good to be noticed that way. Pete and Mary had 'Schutzen Hounds'. The dogs are all German Shepherds and they compete in a variety of dog events like tracking, obstacle courses, obedience and what I call 'fighting and biting'. There is a name for it but it involves some idiot in pads who is a 'bad guy' and the dogs attack him, take him down and then have to withdraw when the handler calls. Macey could  have gone head to head with them on the obedience events. Not bad for an SPCA mutt, HAR HAR HAR!

That $20.00 collar saved that dog's life. Not only that, it transformed her from an unmanageable threat to a dog to be envious of. They look like vicious torture devices but are exactly what some dogs need. Today Macey is a teacher. Mort is as dumb as Macey is smart; so he pretty much does what she does and it works for everyone. If you see a dog wearing a collar like that - it's because the dog needs it and rest assured, they work. If you have to walk on glaze ice often as I do, you can't be doing that and fighting with a disobedient dog because if the owner gets hurt, that isn't good for anyone.

Once your dog has those five commands, they won't need that collar anymore. Obedient dogs are happy dogs - a lot of people don't understand that. Once a dog realizes that he can make his owner happy by doing a couple stupid tricks - he becomes happy too. Those vicious looking collars can literally be a life saver.

Pessimist Optimist.... Realist

I Want This Man Killed

Some people just want to see the world burn.

No, It Wasn't Me....

...but you'd be correct to suspect it!!!

Cripes, I'm 53 and I would have to restrain myself

from vandalizing that idiotic statue...

Good Christ. The fags n wanks in NYFC put up a statue of a bratty little girl in front of the Bull Of Wall Street - as a sop to feminists and a symbolic 'tribute' to female manageMINT and leadership!

And the morons beclowned themselves in that symbolic process too! That is just EXACTLY what modern feminism is about - stupid fuggin women getting in front of a raging bull and daring him to do his worst - what with their Slut Walks, Fat Acceptance and all the other bullshit that goes along with it. Even when they get trampled by life, a lot of these clucky feminists still don't get it.

It's almost worth the trip and thirty days in the can for me to drive down there and pish on on it.

Who Woulda Thunk It?

Thoughts From The Loading Bench: Roads Not Taken

She was gonna be a light sniper; 20" Shilen match barrel, to be

pillar bedded in one of the new 'modular chassis'

stocks, etc etc.

On sale for $900.00! No cheques, Uncle Bob!!!

(At least, not YOUR cheques, HAR HAR HAR!)

I've gotten good and thoroughly lost in Gun Geek Forest. I'm serious, I dunno which way I wanna go! Awhile back sniper rifles were all the rage and I gotta admit I never had much enthusiasm for it... but all the cool kids at my club were doing it, and they're still hard at it.

Fah.

Bolt guns. Synthetic stocks. Air gauged match barrels. 24X scopes. There's no soul in such guns. When you have to get the Vernier calipers out to decide who wins a shootin' match, you are in Anal Retentive Country. Seriously, real precision shooters have to be absolutely anal about their reloading and shooting and as I get older - the more I say to hell with that rattle. I would rather shoot against Gorges Grouse and his front-stuffing Spaghetti Plains Rifle than get mixed up in precision shooting! I am only in it for fun now.  And yet, selling guns goes against my grain. Somewhere along my life's road I have become a pack rat, and that galls me. I don't have room (never mind time) for all the guns I have now, and I have decided to actually start thinning the herd out a bit.

I was reading with some dismay over at Kim du Toit's blog. His wife just passed and he is de-cluttering, down sizing and preparing to move to an appropriate small apartment for the widowed senior. It's heart breaking stuff but something that's in store for all of us. In a recent post he described how he lost his chit going through his wife's cooking gear to get rid of it. I would hate for my wife to get stuck with all my ordnance and not know what to do with it.

I am keeping my Nasty Rifles, the ones that dung-eating liberals and turd brains think that only the military should have. By God, if those sumbitches ever get stupid enough to force me to use mine in anger - I'll be taking at least a dozen of them to hell with me and that's all I'm gonna say about that. The Bad Boys won't come out if everyone is nice and keeps their hands where I can see 'em. Y'all been warned.

My serious rifles though - for taking care of the insolent sportsmen and sullen stubfarts at the rod n gun club are all black powder burners now. I've shot the Retirement Rifle with smokeless loads and the new Soule Sight - and have some fussing to do. The hooded brass/case hardened front sight has interchangeable 'reticles' and I need to find one that works for my aging eyes. But preliminary shooting was very, very promising. That was using smokeless powder though... now I gotta do the same again with black powder and that's a whole new shootin' match...literally! HAR HAR HAR!

Look out! That's a 405 grain lead bullet, sitting on

70 grains of compressed black powder and a

'grease cookie' made

from bullet lube that I made m'self!

Today at coffee was awesome. My arch enemy, King Peter - was beaking off about the new .338 Lapua Magnum he just bought. Then he started flapping off about how he can now look down his long imperial nose at lesser men shooting light bullets... guys like me for instance!  'How big a bullets are ya shooting, Pete?' I asked. The knucklehead just grinned and said '300 grainers...!'

Pete was thoroughly nonplussed when I looked down my long nose at him, HAR HAR HAR!!!! My serious bullets are going to weigh in at 525 grains - I just need a warm day to melt the lead and cast them! :)

So, I suppose I should be happy at the prosepect of getting rid of a rifle I don't use, right? Problem is that once I sell it I'll just spend the money on the ones I keep! The cool kids at the club are gonna be unhappy too... not only will I be sneering down my nose at them, they will have to put up with the rancid stench of burnt black powder and the smoke too!

I don't think I am gonna miss that bolt gun one bit!  :)

Upland Bird Hunting With Filthie: Try To Keep Up

Your SMV Test Results Are Back, Boys

No, not STD results, you morons, SMV - which stands for Sexual Market Value. In other words we all find out what we're worth to the ladies in terms of our manliness! Don't any of you retards read the manosphere? Of course, I'm not shocked at the results myself, but some of you may be. This data comes from the internet's biggest fag and gamma male - Vox Day. I suspect this may be one of those 'stopped clocks being right twice a day' scenarios.

In any event Amazon lists the most popular heroes and themes for romance novels that women like to read:

Soooooo - let's just see how the local blogging celebs stack up on that list, shall we?

Alpha Males: Wirecutter? World Famous Author & Adventurer WL Emery? Who woulda thunk it?
BBW: Big Beautiful Women? (Don't anyone say anything about this one if ya like breathing)
BIKERS: BW Bandy, Glenfilthie (I don't think anybody's surprised by this).
Cowboys: I don't think we have any of those here
Criminals And Outlaws: Gorges Grouse, Mad Jack, Pete Forester, possibly Quartermain
Doctors: I think Borepatch has a doctorate in ... something. He's a smart bugger anyways
Firefighters: Fire fighters, idiots. Most of us are firebugs and pyros...
Highlanders: Toirt....Turtle.... Turdie... Dammit, that boy from The Forty-Five blog. TB!
Pirates: N/A
Royalty & Aristocrats: King Charlie of Coopville. (Not bad for a chicken).
Spies: My Russian fans can fuggoff! I AM CANADIAN. Go hack the Americans! Sheeesh!
Vikings: Same as BBW above. Mind your tongue boys, and we'll all live through this.
Wealthy: HA! HAR HAR HAR!!! In your FACE, Uncle Bob! You're LAST on the list!!!   :) :)

I gotta think about the themes we would most likely find ourselves embroiled in. Senility is not on the list for some reason, but I think most of us could slip in under the wire for 'Amnesia' right? I'm sure we all have had the issues with leaving the terlet seat up, forgetting to replace the TP. 'Medical' and possibly 'Workplace' will encompass the rest of us.

So? The way I look at it we all did pretty good! It's been a quiet, cold, but steady 5 days up in Alberta's oilsands, and I am going home today. So now, if you'll excuse me, I am gonna clean up my hotel room, pack, and take CW's open road home!

If it makes ya feel any better - CW didn't make that list either.  ;) Have a good Friday.

The Prince Of Pot...

...has been busted.

Again.

What a fuggin moron. I don't think he cares about pot so much as he does about giving the cops the finger.

About two years ago we did an informal survey at work. At the time we had about 12 employees and only 3 of us didn't use pot. The rest of the staff did and their ages varied from the late teens to early 60's. I can tell a heavy user when I see one. They're not retards, but most of 'em are quite a bit slower on the uptake than your average man. Their lives tend to be trainwrecks too and make my family situation look sane. The older ones never seem to have money but they always have money for grass.

Having said all that I know a lot of nice folks that dabble in it. My older brother does and my neighbours do and a few bloggers I know do too. They're fine, upstanding straight shooting folk that smoke pot and they don't care what me or the cops think about it - but they are careful to be discrete and respectful. How can ya have a problem with that?

This blithering idiot Canadian Prime Minister

supports legalization, which should give any rational adult (and

most brighter children) pause for thought. Unlike 'Blow Job' Bill Clinton,

Young Master Turdo not only inhaled when he smoked it as a kid,

he bent over and sucked cack afterward too! HAR HAR HAR!!!

I might be convinced to go along with legalization while holding my nose against the stench. Most users I know are not addicts but let us be honest about it all and say this about that: this shit isn't a harmless weed nor is it good for ya. The shit they're selling in BC has 20 times the THC levels as the crap the stupid kids were smoking 20 years ago. Nor is there going to be any real way to tax it and regulate it when every second moron can grow this crap in their basement.

My real problem isn't the shit - although it's there. It's the numbers of liberal idiots that have skin in this game. Anything these idiots get behind inevitably turns to shit. I think that when we liberalize and legalize it, the crack cocaine addicts will come crawling out of the wood work to get their recreational pharmaceuticals legalized too. Then the LSD zombies, and other addicts will follow them. I think we're going to see a lot more wrecked young people too. Yannow, they are always the first to take it in the shorts when liberals meddle with law. This stuff IS a gateway drug the same way beer is for alcoholics. What REALLY blows me away is how the health Nazis can poop their pants in rage over tobacco - and go silent as church mice on this shit. Suit yourselves, I guess.

But everything is a double edged blade. Abortion? Why, yes, I think it IS a good thing for liberals to abort their children because most of them are too gawddamned dumb to raise them anyways. Homosexuality and HIV? That one kills liberals by the bushel so there's merit in that too! Hopefully legal weed will help liberals destroy themselves too.

As for me, I don't really care anymore. These idiots can go do to themselves what they're going to do and I will just stock up on ammo and popcorn. I won't even say. "Toldjya so...." when the inevitable consequences of this set in.

Life is a crapshoot and ya play the hand yer dealt.